


Second Honeymoon

by vivilove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Happy Starks, Honeymoon, Light Angst, Married Couple, Post-World War II England, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-24 00:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14343717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: An arranged union, Ned and Catelyn had married at the end of WWI as he prepared to take over the duties his brother's untimely death had brought him.  There had been no time for a real honeymoon for the new Lord and Lady Stark then and their lives had been tremendously busy in the intervening years, though filled with children and love.Twenty-seven years later, another war has just ended.  Their nest is nearly empty but their nephew and eldest daughter have returned home carrying unspoken burdens from the war with them and Catelyn has an unexpected surprise in store of her.  It is then that Ned decides it's time he finally gives his wife a proper honeymoon.





	Second Honeymoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mynameisnoneya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnoneya/gifts).



> For Lisa, who asked for some Ned and Cat loving. Hope you like it, baby doll :)

 

**December 1918**

 

 _Another thing meant for Brandon_ , Eddard Stark thought as he stood at the altar of Christ Episcopal and waited for his bride.

But Brandon was dead, killed in the Great War that he had survived. Now it would be Ned, the second son, who would inherit the estate of Winterfell and the title that came with it. And it would be Ned who would marry Miss Catelyn Tully to honor the pact made between their fathers two years earlier. She brought a handsome and very welcome dowry with her to restore his family’s ancestral home and he would make her Lady Stark. He feared he was getting the far better end of the arrangement and she might come to resent him for it.

They had met twice when she was to be Brandon’s wife. Ned had thought her quite beautiful though he’d been shy of young ladies then. Witty and warm, she had charmed him and his brother both. Ned could still recall the way Brandon had held her hand as the three of them strolled through the garden after luncheon when she had visited Winterfell with her father before the brothers had returned to the Front.

Ned had thought she might calm his brother’s passionate rages. He had hoped Brandon would find peace with her. And in his heart, he’d cherished the dream of finding a girl like Catelyn for himself once the war ended.

Guilt twisted in his gut at the memory.

_Not like this. I didn’t want it like this._

Perhaps as a boy he’d dreamed of Winterfell being his home always but he’d never wanted his brother to die.  He'd not expected to lose both his brother and father in the space of a month. 

But as Hoster Tully escorted his daughter down the aisle and Ned lost himself in bright blue eyes and beheld her sweet yet tremulous smile, he decided he would not waste his life feeling guilty over something he had no control over and could not change. The War had taught him to savor what time that was given to him and he meant to live his life with that outlook in mind.

There would be no time for a proper honeymoon with the war still so fresh in everyone’s mind. The estate needed his attention and times were hard for many. There was work to be done. Tomorrow, they would leave Dover and the new Lord Stark would take his wife north to what would be her home.

They exchanged their vows and spent a few hours in the company of her friends and family before driving to the seaside inn he’d taken a room in for the night. He had hoped the view would please her. It was a beautiful evening despite the time of year. The sun was shining upon the water. It sparkled like diamonds. There were no ocean views to enjoy in Winterfell.

But she was far too nervous about what was to come to pay it much mind as she picked at their supper with no relish whatsoever. He could feel her trembling when he escorted her up the stairs to their room.

“We don’t have to…” he started to say once they reached the room.

She smiled and cut him off with a kiss.

“I’m sorry. It’ll get better,” he promised later that night in their nuptial bed.

She had not cried when he took her virginity but he knew she’d not found much pleasure in it. _I hope to make it better if you’ll allow me_. He had little experience himself. _We will learn together._

But after he’d finished shuddering with his release, he saw the worry on her face and then the tears.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you,” he said.

“No…not really. There’s just so many changes and so much to adapt to. I don’t mean to cry over it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll do everything I can to make this better, to make you happy. I’ll be a good husband to you, Catelyn.”

“I know you will, Eddard.”

“Ned. Please call me Ned.”

“Ned,” she said softly. He felt her hand stroking his cheek and his heart pounded with hope. “I’ll be a good wife to you,” she finished as she wiped away her remaining tears.

He kissed her cheek and tasted the salt on his tongue. He swore to himself then and there that he would bring her more tears of joy than sorrow in the years to come.

 

* * *

 

 

**December 1945**

 

Catelyn Stark sat in front of her mirror, brushing out her dark red hair. She grimaced at the widening streak of silver she could see in it but then chuckled at her vanity.

_You’re forty-five, Cat. You can’t stop time._

She could not help it though. Ned loved her hair and she hated to go grey just yet. But she hoped he’d love her news even more.

Nearly twenty-seven years had passed since they’d married in Dover. Those years had been very active but quite happy overall. They might have been mere acquaintances when they married but they had come to know one another well in their early months of marriage, working hard on the family estate in the hopes of making it a home again.

They’d come to trust each other and developed a friendship. It wasn’t very long before she’d fallen in love with her quiet husband and his good heart. He was not as dashing as Brandon perhaps, but Cat had come to see that in many ways he was a more ideal husband. And he was quite handsome in his own way with his dark hair and grey eyes.

He was a creature of duty, always mindful of his responsibilities. She admired that about him and set about being a supportive wife and a comfort to the man who so many others relied upon.

Robb had been born nine months after their wedding night. She had not expected to become a mother so quickly but as soon as her newborn son was placed in her arms she knew such joy and contentment. But the estate and its people kept Ned very busy while her duties as Lady Stark and as a mother kept her busy as well.

Then, Ned had brought their infant nephew home amidst gossip and scandal when his younger sister had died giving birth in France. How time had flown with two young boys to raise. A few years later, Sansa was born…then, Arya, Bran and Rickon.

She loved their children and nephew with all her heart but there never seemed to be much time for just the two of them. Ned was often called away as his duties expanded from the estate into government service. Even when he was home, there were the children to care for. Looking back though, Cat found far more good than bad to reflect upon.

Cat rose from her dresser and pulled out a pair of the nylon stockings Robb had managed to bring home for her a few weeks ago. Silk stockings were still scarce and these inferior nylons laddered quickly but she was grateful to have them. It beat painting them on.

Robb had bought them from some American GIs he’d met in London on his honeymoon. He’d married an American girl, a nurse who’d befriended Sansa there when she’d served in the Wrens. Sansa had introduced Jeyne Westerling to her brother and cousin when they’d returned from Germany. Cat feared her eldest had married a bit impetuously but hoped they’d be happy.

She still woke up from nightmares of Robb or Jon or even Ned being lost to her forever sometimes. The War had been going on for so long now. Her heart still skipped a beat when she would remember that it was finally over and that Robb and Jon had come home.

Sansa had returned home when Jon did.  She was quieter than before, sadder in some way.  She did not speak of it to her mother though which troubled Cat greatly.

Arya had chosen to remain in Manchester where she’d been working in a factory. Her daughter had hopes of keeping her job but Cat knew the fighting men who had returned would soon be taking their jobs back. Cat also knew Arya had a sweetheart returning from the war. Perhaps he would soften the blow for her daughter if she was let go from her position.

Bran had been disappointed when he’d attempted to enlist in the waning days and been turned down due to him needing spectacles. Cat had spent an entire day saying prayers of thanks though she would never tell him so. Ned had talked him into attending Cambridge instead.

Rickon had been too young for the war. He was only fifteen and still at home.

Dressed and ready, she headed downstairs for some tea before she would need to leave for her appointment. Jon had agreed to drive her.

She heard Sansa playing the piano in the drawing room, a lighter, less-melancholy tune today, and ducked her head in. Jon sat beside her on the bench as he often did these days though he’d never played a note, not even when he was little. Their backs were to her, both sitting tall and straight as her daughter’s hands moved competently across the keys.

Sansa’s head tilted ever so slightly towards Jon’s during the melody’s refrain. Jon’s hand came slowly up her back and began carding through Sansa’s auburn tresses. Her daughter rested her head on his shoulder and kept playing.

Cat felt a pang at the sweet tenderness of the gesture and like an intruder for observing their private moment. Another confirmation of what she’d suspected if she had still needed it. They thought they were being careful but Cat could see the way they looked at each other.

Jon had come home but some of the demons had followed him from the Front. He thrashed and cried out in his bed most nights and there would be dark circles under his eyes in the mornings. Cat remembered Ned having such bouts in the early years of their marriage and she prayed for her nephew to heal from the scars no one could see. But she had been hesitant to go to him as she would’ve when he was a boy. He was a man of twenty-six now and more withdrawn and distant than he had been.

The other night though, she’d been sitting up late looking over some papers and heard his cry. She tiptoed to her door and started to go to him regardless of his age. But then, she’d spied Sansa creeping down the hallway. She watched her daughter enter her cousin’s bedroom. Cat had closed her door and said not a word, not knowing when Sansa might have returned to her own room but trusting them to do what was right in the end. They were no longer children, she reminded herself.

She hoped Sansa’s gentleness would soothe the damage the war had done to him. Different in some ways and alike in others, they were well suited. And, she had already seen the way Jon could bring the light back into her daughter’s eyes after she’d met with unnamed but bitter disappointments of her own away from home.

When Sansa finished the piece, Jon leaned in to kiss her chastely on the cheek and Cat grew more certain that they would be good for each other.

Jon found her in the kitchen soon after, sipping her tea.

“Are you ready, Aunt Cat?” he asked.

“Yes, dear,” she replied, pulling on her coat. “Does Sansa want to go into town? There’s no need for you to sit around waiting on me if the two of you wanted to see a film or…” She trailed off as Jon looked alarmed by the suggestion and Cat nearly laughed aloud.

“No, she said she had somethings to do at home.” He scratched at the beard he had grown the past few months and stared past her. “I, uh…wished to speak with you anyway on our way.”

“Of course.”

Her nephew gave her his arm and they walked along the icy path out to the garage. Only Hodor remained of the male servants and Hodor could not drive. Arya had taught Cat to drive but she didn’t like to much when there was snow on the roads.

It took a bit of prompting but on the drive into town, Jon opened his heart to her as she listened patiently. He worried that his uncle would disapprove. He hoped to gain an ally in his aunt. Cat highly doubted Ned would disapprove and told Jon as much.

“And I am always on the side of happiness and love,” she finished. “I can speak with your uncle first though if you prefer.”

“No, Aunt Cat. I’m not a boy. I’ll speak with him man to man,” he said with a hint of stung pride. “I just…thank you for the vote of confidence though,” he said next with a grin that reminded her very much of the little boy with raven curls he had been.

Jon dropped her off at the entrance to Dr. Luwin’s office and Cat took a seat in the waiting room, flipping through a copy of Woman’s Weekly until Jon joined her. At last, her name was called and she left her nephew waiting.

Her stomach was twisting with excitement as she spoke to the nurse and then Dr. Luwin regarding why she’d come in. It was unexpected certainly. She’d thought her and Ned would have to get used to rambling around the large house alone in a few years other than the servants but now it appeared otherwise. Dr. Luwin had attended the birth of all five of her children.

_Now it will be six._

But an hour later, he rejoined her in the examination room after a round of tests and questions, a slight frown on his face.

“I’m not certain if my news is welcome or not. Many women your age might be relieved by what I have to say but I fear that may not be the case now. I suppose it is best to speak plainly. Catelyn, you’re not pregnant.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “But I’ve not bled in three months,” she sputtered even as she could feel the tears pricking her eyes. “I’m…”

“Entering menopause,” he said in his gentle, kindly way. “A little earlier than some women but I’m as certain of it as I am of anything.”

 

* * *

 

 

Aunt Cat had been stony-faced as she sat beside him in the car all the way home. Sansa had come down to greet them both but her mother had fled to her room at once, clearly on the verge of tears.

“What has happened?” Sansa asked, her hands nervously clasping and unclasping together, a habit she'd picked up during the war.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I was afraid to ask.”

“I’ll go and speak with her.”

“I…I hope it’s not bad news.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He was worried for his aunt and worried for Sansa and Uncle Ned and all of them. His aunt and uncle were the touchstone of their lives. Uncle Ned would be lost without his beloved Cat.

_Just as I would be without their daughter._

He grasped Sansa’s hand and squeezed it lightly. He received a grateful, acknowledging smile before she hurried up the steps after her mother.

Uncle Ned was over at the Cassels today, seeing to some estate business. He had been out of town the past week and immediately been called out this morning upon his return last night. Jon thought it was time he came home today and decided to drive down and find him.

 

* * *

 

 

The curtains were drawn though it was not quite two when he entered their darkened bedroom. His wife was lying across the bed, still wearing her clothes she’d worn into town. He’d not found Cat abed at two in the afternoon since she’d been afflicted with influenza while pregnant with Bran years and years ago. If his nephew coming to fetch him had not alarmed him already, this certainly would.

“Cat,” he said hoarsely, “what is it?”

His heart ached in his chest. No, it was worse than that. It felt swollen and too large as though his ribs could not contain it. Every breath was a labor. If she was dying, he would rather lie down next to her and die, too.

She raised her head from the pillows, watery blue eyes met his grey ones.

“I’m sorry, Ned. I was being terribly silly to worry you this way. I just spoke with Sansa and told her to reassure Jon. I’m not dying. I’m just old.”

“Old?”

Tears streaked his wife’s sweet face and he hated that word. He knew their ages but he didn’t consider them old. He’d need a grandchild or two before he started calling himself old. And a great-grandchild before he’d think it of his wife.

“I thought…I hadn’t bled in three months. I thought I was pregnant,” she said quietly. She bowed her head.

“Pregnant?” he repeated dumbly.

He’d not considered it. Rickon was fifteen and though they shared a bed each night when he was home and made love often he had not really pondered having another child for at least ten years now. They had been blessed with five children plus a dear nephew to raise. He had been content with that. He had thought Cat was as well.

He sat down on the bed beside his wife and took her hand. “Did you…did you want another child, my love?” he asked.

The fear in his heart from earlier had eased when he’d learned the cause of her behavior. Now, the worry he had fled as his wife snorted and then laughed.

“Not really,” she said, covering her mouth to hide her giggles like a girl. “God help us…a new baby at forty-five. I was rather overwhelmed by the notion. But I started thinking I must be expecting a month or so ago and then I started dreaming about holding a little one again and got carried away. Oh, Ned! I hope you’re not disappointed.”

“I am not disappointed at all, merely relieved that you are well and sorry for any sorrow this has caused you.” He smiled and hugged her tightly, kissing her cheek. “And I forbid you to call yourself old.” They chuckled together but then he sobered. “Why did you not share this with me? Don’t we always share our burdens and our worries?”

“I started to but you’ve been so busy. And, I wanted to be certain first. And we’ve been worried over Robb marrying so suddenly and then Jon ever since he came home…and Sansa.”

“You are my first duty, Cat. You and the children. I always lay my cares at your feet. I want you to do the same.”

“I know. I should’ve shared this sooner.”

He didn’t want her thinking she’d made a mistake when he knew he had not been as attentive as he should have been. “You’re a good wife to me, Cat.”

“You are a good husband.”

“Perhaps not as good as I could be though,” he murmured. “The war is done and our anniversary is coming up. Could I steal you away for a week, do you think?”

“What nonsense is this?” she said briskly, rising from the bed to cast off her town clothes. She had had her cry and was prepared to carry on like usual now. He admired that about his wife…but he did not want that from her now. “We can’t just up and leave. The house and Rickon and…”

“The house will still be standing when we return. Rickon is not a baby and Jon and Sansa are here besides.”

“Yes, about Jon and Sansa, Ned…”

“Let me give you the honeymoon we never had. Let me take you down to Dover again and this time let us enjoy each other and the sea without cares.”

“We have far more cares now than we did then,” she said.

“Aye but we are not the young novices we were then.”

“No…we’re old,” she smirked.

He huffed at her stubbornness and pulled her into his arms. “Let me take you away, dear wife. Let us have a second honeymoon to make up for the one we never really had.”

“Wouldn’t that make it our first honeymoon?” she asked archly.

“Are we going to explain that to the children?”

“No,” she said, smiling with pleased anticipation now. “Take me away then for a few days, Sweet Ned.”

 

* * *

 

 

The inn was the same one they’d slept in twenty-seven years ago when they’d become man and wife. The same place where she’d lost her maidenhood to the man by her side and perhaps the place their first born had been conceived.

The interior had been redone at some point. It was a touch shabby but still a respectable place.

The innkeeper and his wife wore the same tired and harried expressions of many of their countrymen after the war. Cat recognized the look. She often saw it staring back at her in the mirror. The young people might be gay and have high hopes for the future but the older generation, the one who’d seen the first war to end all wars, worried what lay ahead for them all.

However, when Ned gave his name, the innkeeper beamed at him. “Welcome, Lord and Lady Stark. We’re very honored by your patronage.”

His wife chimed in that there were fresh sheets on the bed and she was making an apple pie to go along with supper tonight and hoped Lord Stark and his lady would enjoy their stay.

Cat thanked them both graciously as Ned stood there with a tight smile. He never had grown comfortable with his title, she knew. He did what was expected of him but preferred to just be Ned to all who knew him.

The innkeeper’s wife fed them a fine meal but Cat was too enraptured by the view from the dining room’s window to savor it.

“The sea is so beautiful,” she said.

“It’s cloudy and grey, a winter’s day,” her husband commented whilst digging into his slice of pie. “The winds are picking up and there may come a storm. God save our sailors on an evening such as this.”

“But the clouds are breaking just now. The sun is shining upon the water making it sparkle like diamonds. Look, Ned,” she urged.

He glanced out the window and then turned to look at her, a soft light in his grey eyes. “I had hoped you might like it.”

He squeezed her hand and Cat felt a familiar thrill at what was to come later.

“When you finish your pie, may we take a walk along the cliffs?”

“Of course, my love.”

The short winter’s day passed into darkness before they even made it back to the inn. The salty wind had a bite to it but Ned had his arm around her waist, keeping the chill at bay.

They laughed like young lovers as the rain chased them the last hundred yards or so before they made it indoors. Cat’s heart pounded from the exertion and from joy as they removed their hats and coats and attempted to fix their wind-blown hair.

The innkeeper stepped into the foyer and asked if they wished for some tea to warm them. Ned looked to her, his eyes dark and hooded. She subtly shook her head, her eyes locked on his and her lips parted.

“No, thank you,” he said in a deep, gruff tone that sent a shiver of desire racing through her body. “My wife and I wish to retire for the night.”

She was tingling all over as he led her up the stairs. She recalled how frightened she’d been that first night together so many years ago, not of him but of doing something she’d never done before with a man she barely knew then and what it meant for them. She was not remotely frightened now.

A fellow guest came out of his room just as they were heading down the hall. “Lord Stark?” he said. Ned slowed for half a second and acknowledged the man before attempting to move on. “Forgive me, my lord. You may not remember me but we met once in…”

“I beg your pardon, sir, but my wife is extremely fatigued from our travel and I must see her to our room. Perhaps we could catch up some other time?” Ned nearly growled as he kept walking. “Some other time, some other place but not this week,” he muttered.

Cat bit her tongue to suppress her laughter. “That was a bit rude,” she chided teasingly as he dug the room key out of his pocket.

“You say that as though I should care,” he rasped, his arm around her tightening as her lips brushed the shell of her ear. Cat whimpered and closed her eyes, desperate to get inside. “Dammit,” he cursed as he dropped the key.

Cat felt like cursing as well. “Hurry, Ned,” she whispered as he fumbled to get it in the lock.

At last, the door swung inward. Cat began to cross the threshold but Ned held her still. “No,” he said firmly before lifting her into his arms.

“Ned!” she gasped, half scandalized and half elated.

“You’re my bride, my wife. You’re mine. I don’t mind if the world knows it, let alone an empty hallway,” he said, kicking the door closed behind them and turning the lock quickly before striding towards the bed. “And tonight, I plan to make it clear how very grateful I am for that.”

Despite his barbaric behavior, he lowered her carefully upon the bed. Cat propped up on her elbows to watch as he unlaced his shoes and removed his necktie. She kicked off her own shoes and wetted her lips. She sat up to start unbuttoning her blouse.

“No. Just take your hair down. Permit me to do the rest,” her husband said.

She nodded numbly and rubbed her legs together to relieve the blossoming ache he was stirring with his words, his tone and his hot eyes scorching her with every look. She swiftly pulled the pins from her hair and laid them on the bedside table.

When he was down to his under things, he paced back to the bed. She sat on the edge and watched as he deftly unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. He leaned down to kiss her shoulder, sweeping her hair to the side to reach her ivory flesh. His lips seared her delicate skin.

“So soft and sweet, my wife is,” he husked.

“Ned,” she sighed, cupping his jaw.

He kissed her palm and tossed her blouse away. Normally, she liked things tidy. Right now, she did not care one whit about the clothes strewn across the floor.

He kissed her mouth, his tongue dancing with hers as he hands went to the small of her back. She heard the sound of her skirt being unzipped. He broke the kiss and gently pushed her back on the bed. He yanked off his undershirt as she lifted her hips. He helped her pull the skirt off to join her blouse and his things on the floor.

Wearing only her brassiere, stockings and knickers, she felt exposed as Ned looked her up and down. She crossed her legs and covered her belly with her hands. She was still thin but her body was different now than it had been when she was younger.

“I’m…”

“Gorgeous,” he said before diving down to cover her body with his own and kissing her soundly.

She was breathless when he pulled away. Whatever worries she’d been concerned with before that kiss, flew away. He began kissing his way down her neck and chest. He reached under her to unclasp her bra. He smiled as he cupped a breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger playfully, teasing it to a peak. She lifted one hand to stroke his hair, smiling happily at this man who she loved so dearly.

Her breasts were fuller and softer than they’d been at eighteen. Her husband didn’t seem to mind though as he licked the stiffened pebble between his fingers. Cat’s fingers curled in his hair and she moaned quietly.

“Let me hear you, my Cat.”

His lips closed over her nipple fully, sucking lightly as she twisted and squirmed in anticipation. He lathed her nipple until she was nearly mad with longing. Dr. Luwin had said to expect more dryness with the change but so far that was not the case she realized as her knickers grew damp. She tugged at his hair, wanting his kiss…wanting his cock.

“Now Ned.”

He shook his head, a devilish look in his eyes. He rose to his knees and slid down the bed, taking off her knickers.

“I want you to leave these on,” he said of her stockings.

She nodded. They would likely be ruined. She would gladly sacrifice a pair of stockings to please him.

He planted a kiss on her navel and then her hip before shouldering her thighs apart. He buried his nose in her mound and inhaled before kissing her down there. Her toes curled and her back arched. One swipe of his tongue was all it took for her to start rocking her hips shamelessly, wanting nothing but to feel that floating release he would bring her. She knew he would not mind that. He settled between her legs, contentedly lapping at her sex. His tongue and his fingers worked her into a frenzy. She writhed beneath him. The sounds were indecent but she couldn’t remotely care. They’d not done anything like this the last time they were here but they’d learned a lot in the years between their wedding night and now. And Ned excelled at this particular form of pleasing his wife.

Her legs trembled and shook with her peak when she cried out his name, loudly now. She told herself the walls were thick and no one would hear. He kissed his way back up her body before settling himself between her legs. He kissed her deeply once more, the musky tang of her arousal still on his tongue.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too.”

He slid inside her tight heat with a groan and began sucking on her neck. His hips thrusted slowly at first but he soon increased his rhythm. Cat clasped his strong shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips.

“Harder,” she begged, wanting more of him.

He smirked and unexpectedly rolled them over. Cat squealed in surprise and he chuckled. She could feel that chuckle throughout her body and her eyes nearly crossed as she settled astride him.

He gripped her hips and said, “Harder.” There was a teasing lilt in his tone but his eyes were serious. Cat ground against him and moaned. This was even better. “Yes, Cat…as hard as you please. I’m yours just as you are mine.”

She threw her head back and began moving her hips in a circular motion. Her breasts bounced and she felt his hands cupping them, his eyes black with desire. She found that angle that nearly always brought her to peak. She rode him mercilessly, enjoying the coiling and unfurling of desire over and over until she was spent and growing sore.

She kissed him hard and then rolled off him. Cat tugged at his hand, spurring him to cover her again. He slammed into her, pumping towards his own completion. His hands were fisted through her hair as he grunted and came at last, spilling his seed deep inside her womb.

Her loins ached from the fierceness of their loving but she was decidedly happy and sated as he rolled to his back and pulled her against his chest. His hands still played in her hair as he kissed her sweaty brow.

“A week of this,” she sighed.

“Yes. Will you grow tired of me?”

“Never,” she declared.

And she didn’t. Every day of their second honeymoon, they walked along the cliffs, visited the town and lay abed many mornings. The innkeeper and his wife did all they could to please Lord Stark and his wife. Ned artfully evaded the guest who wished to make himself known to him again until their final day when he gave the man his card and invited him to contact his secretary to schedule a meeting.

“This is our time,” he told her when she teased him over it again.

He was right. It was. This was their time together to enjoy one another with no children asking for advice, no duties for Lord or Lady Stark to see to and no servants asking questions.

But there were other concerns they could discuss while they were away. Despite her nephew’s words, she decided to prepare her husband for the coming conversation. She did not think he’d truly object but Ned was very protective of his daughters and she doubted he had taken note of the closeness between them with all his other cares.

Thus, she was surprised when he said, “I thought maybe there was something happening there.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“And what gave it away?”

“The way he looks at her.”

“How is that?”

“The same way I look at you.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“No,” he chuckled. “She is grown. I could not keep her a little girl forever so I suppose I do not mind. I want them both to be happy and whole again after the war.  They will do that for each other, I believe.  Between her and Robb, perhaps one of them will give us a grandchild before too long.”

“It would be sweet to hear childish laughter and little feet racing through the house again.”

As soon as she said it, Cat thought of her visit to the doctor and the fact that there would be no more children for them. She thought of their sweet babes and the reality of time marching on whether they were ready or not. She sighed heavily and Ned took her hand, kissing it tenderly.

“You have given me everything I could ever want, my lady,” he said.

The bitterness of a moment ago was gone, just like that. She smiled and nodded.

Every night of their time away was filled with passion and love-making well into the night.

But eventually, the week drew to a close and they returned to Winterfell. Jon, Sansa and Rickon stood on the steps waiting for them as the drove up.

After hugs were exchanged and Rickon had offered to carry their bags, Jon asked to speak with his uncle alone. Cat took her daughter’s arm as they followed the men into the house. Sansa was nervously clasping and unclasping her hands as Cat led her to the drawing room.

“It’ll be alright,” she told her daughter. Sansa looked at her hopefully. “Your father loves you both. He will not object.” She could see the tension in Sansa’s face drain away at her words. “He’ll be a good husband to you.”

Her girl’s cheeks flushed with pleasure. “I know, Mother. I hope to be a good wife to him.”

“You will be. I just know it, sweet one."

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Comfort of Second Chances](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001358) by [vivilove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove)




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